Page 28 of Always Love You More

A hand to his chest stops him. “Jameson will get it,” my father insists.

I take a step forward, and Big Jim smiles. “No shit, look at you. All grown and everything.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” I mutter.

“Ain’t seen you since before you really started fighting. You’re not a scrawny little kid anymore, are you?” He eyes me. “Heard you’re real good, too.”

“Course he is,” my father cuts in. “I’m training him myself. I’ll let you know when the next one is. You’ve gotta come out.”

Big Jim nods. “I’ll be there.” He tosses me his keys. “It’s the black pickup right out front. Stuff’s on the passenger seat.”

“Got it,” I answer, catching the keys.

I pass Johnny on my way to the door, and we silently acknowledge each other.

I want to ask him about Sam.

Where she is tonight.

If he’s gonna bring her back here.

If she’s said anything about me.

Instead, I keep walking.

She has no place in a life like mine.

Nobody does.

I grab the bags from Big Jim’s truck and carry them inside.

Setting them down, he tells me, “Your old man said you’re up first. You know what you want already?”

Growing up, I always knew I’d get tattoos. I’ve never asked my father for any, though. I guess I just figured he’d take me to get one someday. Apparently, that day is today.

I haven’t put a lot of thought into what I’d get, so I shake my head.

“I’ve got a book,” he says, opening one of the bags and handing it to me.

I flip through all the designs, looking for something that stands out while he gets ready. I find one I like and glance up,finding Marcus talking to my father, who has his arm around my mother, her body pulled into his side.

My father catches my eye and motions for me to join them. “You pick something?” he asks.

I nod, turning the book to show him the skull. “Gonna get it on my shoulder.”

Marcus whistles. “That’s tough.”

My father’s hand comes down on my back. “I like it.”

I turn toward my mother, waiting for her to say something.

She smiles, her eyes a bit more clear. “Very cool.”

“First tattoo,” my father says, pride in the words. He nods to where Big Jim is setting up. “Go on. I’ll come over with you in a minute.”

I take the book and turn to leave.

“Hold on,” my father calls out. “Give the book to Johnny.”